


To tell the truth, I’d like to keep you.

by otqps



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, M/M, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5510705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otqps/pseuds/otqps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Could use a cigarette.” Suou’s voice is wry, with feigned lightness, so very deliberate in a way that makes Munakata want to scoff.</p><p>“Could you?” It’s flat, a dismissal, a refusal to play along, but Suou doesn’t seem daunted. He usually doesn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To tell the truth, I’d like to keep you.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohbecalm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohbecalm/gifts).



> to ashe, again, who i love so much, which you've heard a thousand times. ♥ i hope this is decent for you, i don't know how k project happened to any of us, but i'm glad you're here with me. 
> 
> set during That scene in episode 3 because wow that was life-changing

He doesn’t have the time, however tempting it is, that much is true. Scepter 4 is always busy, now being no exception, so despite the promise in Suou’s tone, Munakata turns to go. It’s a difficult thing to walk away from, even if the offer isn’t feasible, even if they both know what Suou’s proposing isn’t quite so literal. The chance to have him here at all, to have Suou so _blatantly_ interested… He takes a breath after his apology, steadying both himself and his resolve, and moves to leave.

There’s the sound of movement, the clink of chains, and it takes more effort than Munakata will ever admit to expending to not turn and glance at him. 

“Munakata,” he says, the same way he always does, tongue curling around each syllable, a slow, easy drawl that sounds perfect for late, lazy mornings, “one thing.” 

He looks over his shoulder, not wanting to linger, to give in to letting Suou have his way. “Yes?” Clipped, detached.

“Could use a cigarette.” Suou’s voice is wry, with feigned lightness, so very deliberate in a way that makes Munakata want to scoff.

“Could you?” It’s flat, a dismissal, a refusal to play along, but Suou doesn’t seem daunted. He usually doesn’t.

“S’not a lot to ask.” 

Munakata gives a hum, considering -- he’s willing to give Suou that much, on his own terms, at least, but he suspects his own thoughts are rather closely in line with what Suou’s trying for anyway. 

He finally turns, reaching into an inner pocket for the carton he usually carries, pulling one out with a sigh. “I suppose it’s not.” It’s with the intention of making Suou fidget that he puts it away, fishing out his lighter next, receiving a small huff of laughter in response.

“I’m right here,” Suou says, like Munakata needs the reminder. 

Munakata looks at him incredulously, giving the lighter a flick. “You can’t possibly think I’m going to encourage the use of your powers, even in this cell.” 

“No fun at all,” he murmurs, sitting up, letting his hands dangle in their restraints between his spread legs. Once the cigarette is lit, he smiles, nodding down towards his hands, again, like Munakata has somehow forgotten exactly what sort of situation they’re in. “Gonna need some help.”

“You’re very needy today, aren’t you? I’m aware.”

He steps forward further, in between Suou’s legs, enjoying the way his head tips back to still meet Munakata’s gaze. He looks good like this, lowered just a little, accepting the restraints they both know he could break. Being The Blue King means order and control, things Munakata usually has handled just fine, but something about Suou has always made that difficult. Perhaps it’s another part of being a king, despite violence not being in the nature of his aura, the desire that surges up in him when he sees Suou that tells him to _conquer_.

He puts the cigarette between his lips, taking a drag as he taps a finger under Suou’s chin. It’ll never cease to amaze Munakata that someone can still manage to look smug even in a situation like this, even when he opens his mouth on command, but it certainly seems to be one of his talents. His eyes slide shut as Munakata leans down, exhaling slow and steady, careful not to brush their lips together -- not quite yet, at least. 

Suou makes a pleased sound in his throat, eyes fluttering open to watch Munakata take another deep inhale, hands twitching. 

“Take ‘em off,” he says, but it’s the fact that he’s demanding it at all that tells Munakata he’s happy like this, even if he’d like to touch. It’s not like he’d mind Suou’s hands on his hips to keep him there or anything of the sort, but he has a point to prove. Once more he bends to bridge the gap between them, a gap that becomes significantly smaller with every bit of patience that Suou loses. He’s still waiting to catch Munakata’s exhale, still takes a deep breath, almost greedy for it, but they both know the real goal is a kiss. He surges up the second there’s nothing more for Munakata to offer, and Munakata jerks back sharply, putting a palm to Suou’s shoulder, shoving, rough. 

“Just put it out.”

Munakata raises a brow at that, not hiding the smugness that’s finally present on his features in return. “You asked for one. I’m giving you what you want, the fun way.”

He’s not actually certain how much fun Suou is having, because he’s very certain there’s the enjoyment of having to play this game at all, the enjoyment of Munakata unabashedly holding power over him, but The Red King is used to getting what he wants, used to getting results, and being denied even a kiss doesn’t sit well with him, Munakata’s sure. 

Frankly, though, for all his teasing, it isn’t like Munakata doesn’t want the same thing. Kissing Suou is easy, easier than he’d ever anticipated; it comes with a familiarity of years, and a constant sort of comfort, knowing that the other man is faced with the same burdens he is, emotionally and otherwise. Well, perhaps not otherwise, since Suou doesn’t do nearly as much work. If any, at all. He’s never seen evidence of that.

That’s fine, though. He can frown and sigh at Suou’s constant state of relaxation, groan to himself over how much trouble HOMRA really causes he and his subordinates, but at the end of the day, he probably wouldn’t change it. There’s an unspoken understanding between his clan and Suou’s, a knowledge that, when it came to it, they’d be each other’s allies, and that means more than Munakata often puts words to. 

The excitement of Munakata keeping his hands bound, in Munakata telling him “no”, all comes from the fact that they are each other’s equal in nearly every way and situation, and a deep respect for the other despite differing in methods so greatly. Suou is exasperating and fundamentally beyond his understanding, but that’s never mattered when Suou’s chin is tucked over his shoulder, or when he’s taken up far too much of Munakata’s bed and sheets. 

He lifts the cigarette for the last time, dropping it once he’s had his fill and crushing it underfoot, making it very clear that he’s done making either of them wait. Suou has some sort of smile on his lips before he leans up to meet him, and Munakata doesn’t make any effort this time to avoid the touch of their lips. He lets himself enjoy the intimacy of Suou so close, of Suou taking something he offers, even if it’s only smoke, not breath itself (though he’d offer that, too, if it’d be needed). They both sink into the kiss once Suou’s blown out the vestiges of smoke that didn’t make it to his lungs, though it’s with no sense of urgency. 

It’s a languid pace, one that almost seems unfitting for the location, for the reason Suou’s here at all, but Munakata doesn’t mind. The furrow of Suou’s brow, the way he almost seems to be frowning in concentration while he nips at Munakata’s lip, it’s all endearing, all part of why he cares so deeply for him.

Sometimes, he suspects that he’s actually the one more honest about that affection, because he’s not afraid to label Suou a friend, to worry over him, but there’s fondness in how Suou looks at him, even when they fight, even when they’re in public, and surely he’s not completely unaware of that. 

He has a hard time believing Suou’s unaware of how his hand has sought out Munakata’s, fingers wrapped around his wrist, rubbing a thumb over the pulse point there absently, too. It’s uncomfortable with the wood of his shackles bumping up against his skin every so often, but it’s worth it. 

Kissing Suou is too easy to lose himself in, so it’s with genuine difficulty that he starts to pull away, to say, softly, against Suou’s mouth still, “I have to go.” 

Suou growls, more annoyed than angry, but the sound of it still gives Munakata a bit of a shiver; not from fear, but want, want that he can’t afford to have right now. He’ll humor them both for another moment or so, though, which is a weakness he should be ashamed of, but can’t bring himself to be upset over at the moment. The mood of the kiss is much different this time, as if Suou thinks his tongue mapping the interior of Munakata’s mouth for the nth time is all the convincing Munakata needs to abandon his duties for the day (and it very nearly is). 

The way Suou leans into the touch of Munakata’s hand on his cheek once he lifts it there is also very hard to pull away from, but he manages to separate from Suou properly, only after leaving him one last lingering peck. Suou looks grumpy, and Munakata is more fond of that disgruntled expression than he knows what to do with, but he tangles their fingers together for one brief squeeze before letting Munakata step back. 

“Come back soon,” he says, curling up on his side once more, lips curved into a smirk. 

That looks so inviting that Munakata really does almost want to give up and tell Awashima that Suou’s being much more difficult than anticipated (which is true) and that he thinks it’s very unwise to leave him alone at the moment (partly true), but that won’t do. 

“I will.” They both know that’s inevitable. Once he’s at the door, he pauses, unsure what would be best to say. There are a lot of things on the tip of his tongue, nothing new, exactly, but things that he feels bear repeating. “Suou?” Munakata calls, looking over his shoulder for the last time, he hopes, “I --”

“I know,” Suou cuts in, not even giving him a chance, “me too.” 

Munakata isn’t sure whether that was an apology, a declaration of fondness, or what, but he suspects it really doesn’t matter.


End file.
